Creature Comforts
by Honoria Harker
Summary: LV/HP (SLASH) / (Creature!Harry) / (Mpreg): A baby somehow finds himself in the middle of a forest and, eventually, in the arms of a Lamia. This is my take on the "Harry somehow ends up in the woods and gets adopted by a creature" stories.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers. As such, no profit is being made from this fan-work, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warning: There will be breastfeeding in this story – of both a babe and older child. It is entirely non-sexual but if this bothers you at all then I would suggest you not read this story. Also, there will be mpreg (of an animalist nature) featured later on as well so, again, if this bothers you, don't read!

**Creature Comforts****  
**by  
_Honoria Harker_

__  
Chapter I –

The red dawn brought with it a burning pain which emitted from her breasts, signifying the beginning of her yearly heat. Having had no mate to breed with during the many ages of her existence, she was used to this discomfort, though she did not bear it gladly. Still, today her breasts swung heavily, hot and full – an indication of her body's need for the hatchlings which she did not have, nor could she provide. Irritated by the sensation and perhaps a touch saddened by her sexual solidarity, that morning she chose to visit the river that flowed not too far from her den. The water was slow but deep as she slithered in and submerged herself, sighing in relief at its cool refreshment.

Above in the trees the birds chirped, and off in the distance she could hear the individual movements of the various woodland creatures. And though many of them would no doubt wish to drink at this time, none would approach the river so long as she remained. For she was a queen in her own right, a goddess of her surroundings, and she would not hesitate to consume them all, should they be foolish enough to disturb her.

But disturb they did, or at least, something did. A rustling noise coming from a nearby cluster of bushes had her tongue flickering out for a taste. It was a distant, if familiar scent of musk and dirt and salt which she did not immediately recognise, though the thing that shuffled out into the clearing before her soon rectified the issue of identification.

Crawling slowly, shakily towards her, with twigs in its hair and filth covering its bare body, was a child. A man-child, to be precise – the likes of which she had not set eyes upon for longer than she could recall. Resting herself upon her thick coils, she leaned forward slightly, her tongue lashing out more rapidly than before, eager to sample the scent of inferiority.

Eyes fixed straight ahead, the child came closer still, its movements jerking and laboured, until it no longer possessed the strength required to pull itself further across the sloppy surface of the riverbank. On hands and knees it swayed, blinking rapidly before falling face first into the mud, seemingly unable to keep itself aloft any longer.

It was at that moment that she chose (for no apparent reason) to intervene, by stretching forth the end of her tail and flipping the child to lay flat on its back, face now covered in mess but in no immediate danger. Though she didn't quite know why she had bothered to save it.

After all, she was by no means a human lover. To her, they were wretched, greedy and selfish creatures; inherently foul in nature. And to a vast majority of her kind, they were regarded quite simply as food. Naturally, she herself had sampled upon the sweet delights of man-flesh but, contrary to popular belief, her kind preferred the children of men to be of a more mature physical state. This allowed for the meat to become dense and flavoursome, with the bones developed enough for a satisfying crunch.

Alas, this child was too small to eat and would make a deplorable meal – weak and feeble that it was with visible ribs and twig-like appendages. And although she was not a compassionate being by nature, she did pause to wonder what the little mortal was doing here, in _her_ forest. Humans hadn't stained this land for centuries, and surely she would have heard, tasted, smelled or sensed them if they were here now?

She stared at the child ponderously, watching it wiggle its back legs tiredly as a wail broke forth from its mouth. A probable attempt at alerting its caregiver.

She raised herself to her full height proudly, eyes watching keenly for any signs of human life, though she failed to see it. And after some time had passed, with no indication of a nearby presence, she slithered out of the water, circling to face the still-crying child.

It was a tiny thing, barely wider than the end of her tail. And with it being so ill-fed and defenseless, it was unlikely to survive the night should she leave it. And she should leave it, should she not? For if any human life was within her forest, certainly it would come to reclaim its offspring? Or perhaps not. It had been so long since last she had been present amongst humans that she no longer recalled how exactly it was that they treated their spawn. Was leaving the nursling here a rite of passage? Or possibly some form of punishment? Was it deliberate?

The child was watching her now as it whimpered tiredly, eyes large and pleading within its hollow face.

A sharp burn in her breast had her hissing in discomfort.

She waited for the moment to pass, but it did not. And after several long and pain-filled minutes, she curled in on herself in defeat.

"I shall wait here with you, man-child, until your sire comes searching..."

And so the pair of them stayed there, together, for the longest of times – the child watching her and her watching for humans. It reached for her once or twice, and cried out for her a number of times, but she stayed well out of its reach and did not respond to its pleads.

Eventually, the man-child stopped moving and vocalising altogether after the sun had reached its highest point and began its descent towards the earth. By then she had grown weary from the persistent pain, and with no human in sight, it was safe to assume that one would not be coming. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but decided that it was for the best.

_Should any man have ventured into my forest and shown his face to me, I would have unhinged my jaw and devoured him whole, in front of his offspring, no less…_

Speaking of devouring, she was rather famished. Having not eaten for several weeks, she decided then that a large doe was in order, and so slunk away as dusk set in without a second thought, ignoring the child's renewed cries as she went.

…

The following afternoon she made her way back to the river as her breasts were no better than the day before and were, in reality, heavier and tenderer than ever she had experienced.

She admitted to being rather surprised to find the man-child still lying exactly where she had left it, tinged blue from the overnight chill but still alive and alert, if only just. She supposed that her lingering scent on it and on the area around it had kept potential hunters away. And while she was pleased at the show of fear and respect from her subjects, she was now caught in a most curious predicament.

After all, it had managed to survive through the night and a fair portion of this current day, so surely that meant it was worthy enough to live, if only for the time being?

Unsure of what prompted her to do so, she pulled the frosty babe up by its arms – keeping him (for it was indeed male) a safe distance from her person – and carried him into the warmer patches of water with her to bathe. She stripped the earth from him and washed away his pungent odor. She pulled dead flora from his hair, scraped fauna excrement from his hands and knees and then… she did not know what to do with him.

Still holding him away from her, she stared into his vacant eyes and felt some sorrow for him. For it was a truly pathetic entity, if ever she had seen one.

How could humans, as aggressive and posturing as they were, produce something so delicate?

"What shall it be that I do with you?" she hissed to him softly, knowing that she would not receive a response as it would be unable to understand her tongue. "Should I eat you? Leave you on the riverbank for another night? Should I drown you?"

"Uh…" he grunted then, blinking at her tiredly. "Uh... 'ungry…" it croaked in a voice that sounded long since disused, and she startled in spite of herself, having not expected the child to speak.

"What did you just say?"

But she was not given a response, and she knew well what he had said regardless.

She took him back to her den after that, laying him down on the soft soil and pulling the vines and leaves over the entrance in order to dim the light. He mewled at her and started to cry, and she felt her breasts burn in protest.

Humans ate bread, she remembered, but none could be found here. They ate plants, but she did not know which kinds. They also ate meat, if her memory served her correctly, but she didn't see how the little one would be capable of taking down even the smallest rabbit. Let alone chew through the hide of one, since milk-teeth were all but useless on that front.

Thinking aside, she could see only one option, and so slithered close to the babe before lying on her side.

What she was planning was wrong, she knew. For the milk of her kind was sacred and revered. Meant only for her hatchlings, her milk was not designed nor intended for the consumption of a human, let alone one as small and unworthy as this.

But she herself had never been one to follow direct rules, let alone unspoken ones. That said, she was the only authority for miles and no one ruled her. As far as she was aware, no Lamia had ever tried to nurse a human whelp; so all the better she be the first to do so.

As the babe's cries intensified, on impulse, she offered him one of her aching breasts. But the child simply stared at it in a hazy and unfocused manner before closing its eyes again and crying out once more.

It occurred to her then that perhaps it had been a while since it had last fed this way but, no matter. With her milk churning restlessly within her bosom, she simply pressed the firm end of her teat to his lips and smeared a line of white against them. A small flat tongue darted out to taste, and the gap provided was all she needed to slip the swollen nub in.

The man-child surprisingly put up a struggle, so she pulled him close to her and wrapped him in a tight embrace, albeit gingerly. For even though she knew how to handle a hatchling, in spite of never having birthed one, the body in her arms was not of her ilk and, as such, she was wary to touch it. A large man was no danger to her but, a small infant? Who knew what fraudulence they were capable of?

Her milk poured continuously into his mouth, and the child eventually had to stop fussing in order to swallow it down, again and again. But it was not long before he took the initiative to draw some of the milk out himself. Lying on his side against her now, stomach to stomach with his nose pressed against her soft dark skin, he drank deep and hard and as he took the milk from her, the hurt in her breast eased to nonexistence.

Eventually the child began to doze. His eyelashes fluttering against his sunken cheeks, which had slowed their sucking as he drifted off, mouth still attached to her body.

And when he had eased into unconsciousness, she felt the Bond fall into place with a snap. While not as strong as it would be between a hatchling and herself, it was strong enough to let her know that what was done could not be undone. Having nursed the child she had claimed him, inadvertently of course, and there was no going back from this point. He would be hers for as long as he drew breath. And while that wouldn't be a lot time in comparison to her lifespan, it remained a responsibility nonetheless and, as of yet, she was unsure as to whether or not she would be capable of providing for an infant such as this.

_Still_, she though, lightly tracing a claw over a peculiar scar on the nurslings face, _there's no use in worrying over such things now. He's so sickly he may not live through another night… _

A/N – The next chapter won't be so short, as this one serves only as an official opening to the story. And while not much has happened in this chapter, I would like to hear your thoughts. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers. As such, no profit is being made from this fan-work, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

**Creature Comforts****  
**by  
_Honoria Harker_

* * *

Chapter II –

Being woken by a soft but insistent pressure upon one of her breasts was not an uncommon occurrence in and of itself. That said, she did rather woefully admit, if only within the confines of her mind, that the mornings in which she would awaken in her own time, seemingly so long ago, were being sorely missed. And distant were the memories of the days in which centuries had passed with only the sounds of the rushing river and forest dwellers to disturb her beloved peace. For now, a sound of an entirely different nature did touch upon her senses, quite unpleasantly.

"Muh-muh."

Her eyelids opened, and the translucent layers beneath retracted, uncovering sharp and narrow pupils – each ringed by an oval of pure blue – which focused on the small figure currently suckling on an inflated breast of hers. The child stared back up at her, a picture of pleasure as he feasted away with a look so pure it could be seen as nothing less than complete and utter devotion.

She stared back solemnly.

He was an affectionate little mortal at the best of times, and a complete and utter nuisance at the worst, or so she had learned. Having been with her long enough for late spring to shift to the first warm days of summer, she was now fully aware of just how desperately devoted he was, yet he was not quite aware enough to know that she did not return his enthusiastic attentions. At times she thought herself far colder than a winter's chill, but it became apparent to her that dedicating love of any kind to a type of creature that, from her experience, neither understood the mind-set nor experienced the emotion, would not only be a tremendous waste but also a great shame.

No. She would not give in to his doe-like eyes and precious smile. Her adoration would be spent on a full nest of hatchlings and nothing less. Least of all this entity, who took from her so readily but gave nothing in return. A hatchling, he most assuredly was not, and yet…

"Muh-muh!"

And yet, she understood him, just as she would a hatchling. For his tongue did speak her words, though not in the same soft, high and sibilant hiss as she, since his fat human tongue had proven itself utterly incapable of performing even such a minor elegance as this. Still, the fact that he spoke her words at all was by right a rather peculiar turn of events. But questioning such a fact would be a fruitless endeavour, so she thought no further of it.

"Muh-muh, _up_!"

"I shall decide when and when not to rise." she murmured, but slithered and arched to her full height all the same with him scrambling up after her.

It had taken the man-child all of three days to fatten, but many more to fully overcome the sickness he had soon developed – perhaps from the night she had left him on the riverbank, though she did not feel any guilt or remorse over this particular knowledge. But his now complete physical restoration, a victory in itself, brought with it another challenge which she, in all of her infinite knowledge, had not foreseen.

_What am I now to do with him?_

She had brought him into her den, fed him from her own body and formed a Bond with him, which had all been relatively simple enough things to do. But, as to what she could do with him from this point onwards, she did not know.

She could not take him hunting with her as his plethora of noises would be sure to scar off her intended prey. She could not take him with her to mark her borders as, while her scent would ward against an prospective predators seeking to overtake her territory, _his_ scent (sweetened, tender, innocent and unmistakably human) would serve only to entice and attract those she sought to keep out. She could not even take him to her favourite basking area, as the heat from the rocks would no doubt be enough to shrivel and peel the skin from his flesh.

And she certainly could not leave him here alone. Humans were notoriously dim-witted and it would only be a matter of time before the child got himself into trouble of some sort. Or, more than likely, started the trouble himself as he was healed and active now and, at this very moment, committed to pulling apart the newly constructed nest she had built for him a few days prior.

Shrieking in delight, he was making short work of tearing up the moss bedding and the leaves beneath, while snapping and ripping at the twigs that circled the nest and made up the borders, though it mattered little. What did matter was that she needed to leave, and soon, lest she be driven mad by inactivity. The sedate and fully den-bound routine the man-child had forced her into was only appropriate during the colder climates and she could abide by it no longer.

Bouncing on steady and strong feet the child cried; "Up-up-up!"

"You will walk." she replied, before making her way to the den's entrance without so much as a look back.

Not deterred, the nursling stumbled after her with arms raised in wanting, but he did not speak again until they were outside. Stepping out into the sunlight for the first time in weeks, he found himself taken aback by such a wide and open space, with so many foreign sounds and disconcerting smells.

He whimpered then, and wrapped his arms as well as he could around the lower half of her tail, pressing his face into the thick but smooth and shimmering scales.

"Muh-muh, up! Up peese!"

Not as unmoved as she would have liked to have be, she relented after a moment of hesitation and took him up into her arms.

"There. Now you may cease your incessant whining."

His head ducked down to catch an oozing nipple between his lips, but she nudged him away with a hiss, prompting him to burst into loud and somewhat angry tears. Knowing full well that comfort was not her strong point, she chose to carry him out of the clearing by the den and through the trees. This seemed to calm him well enough, and she slowed the movements of her tail in order to make the journey smoother – not for his comfort, she told herself, but for hers.

He tried to drink from her again but, this time, she diverted his effort by way of distraction. She began pointing out the various fruits they passed, as she was determined to find him a new alternative food source. Unfortunately, it appeared as though he held little interest in them, in spite of their sizes and innumerable colours.

Choosing to take matters into her own hands, she plucked a large, dull-looking fruit from its stem and offered it to the man-child. He watched it inquisitively, putting his little fingers all over its tough and ridged surface before losing interest. Not deterred, she rubbed the skin across his lips and watched him gnaw for a moment, to no avail. No matter how hard he chewed on the ridges, his milk-teeth were not strong enough to break into the flesh and, since that was the case, she imagined that, at this point, he was still too young to eat the fruit and thus did not cut it up for him.

An odd sound caught her notice, and she then noticed that, with his lips now removed, a single shining tooth sat upon the surface of the fruit's skin. It took a moment for the man-child to react but, when it did, there was not a single animal in the forest who did not hear him. Unlike many of the other times he had shed tears, this time it was a particularly hoarse and high-pitched noise that accompanied the act, and for a good long while she was at a loss. He would not feed, he would not quiet and soon, if she did not escape his grabbing hand and dripping orifices, she would surely be driven mad.

Picking a direction at random, it wasn't long before she found exactly what she was looking for and gestured towards it as such.

"You!" she pointed up into the branches of the overhead canopy. The snake in question paused in its chase, watching its prey scamper off morosely before sliding its way down the tree and into the foliage below.

"Yes, my queen?"

It was a long and moderately thick serpent with dark brown markings, large black eyes and a triangular head. All the creatures within her forest were subservient to her, but she had dealt with its kind before and knew that, while not the most pleasant, they did what they were told far better than most.

"You will watch him until I return." she commanded, placing the squalling child on the floor and wincing as she did so.

"Yes, my queen." the snake replied, looking disdainfully at its newly appointed charge.

She took one last look at him (for what reason, she was unsure) before weaving off through the trees.

…

It took her a full day to reach the northern border, which was closest to her den. Once there, she proceeded to scrape her thick body against logs and soil and slash her claws through the toughened bark of some of the oldest trees, reestablishing her scent around the area. During this time she gave little thought to the nursling, but decided against visiting the southern, eastern and western borders for his sake, lest she be gone several more days and have him perish from lack of sustenance as a result.

Not that she held any affection for the man-child. After all, devoting love to a type of creature that, from her experience, neither understood the mindset nor felt or experienced the emotion, would not only be a waste, but also a shame.

Consequently, if he died in her absence she would not for one moment grieve, she was certain. But all the milk she had fed him and all the time and effort she had put into his survival and recovery would have gone to waste, and that was wholly unacceptable.

Returning just as the evening sky gave way to light, she did not find her little man-child but she did find the snake. Its body lay crumpled and worn among the tall grass with many flies hovering over the large gash running up its side, revealing broken bones and some spilled entrails. The scent of venom, thick and hot, still hung about the corpse. And with it being strong enough to perhaps rival her own, she knew that there could only be one culprit.

…

Finding this would-be usurper had not been a difficult task to accomplish. After all, there was only one large and truly powerful snake within her kingdom. Though when it had entered her kingdom a week or so prior, it had been fragile and weary. And having been so engaged with the man-child, she had not given much thought to the new presence. To her mind, as long as the new addition minded her own and did not cause trouble she could live and stay for as long as was desired. But it seemed as if such an easy and peaceful living was not intended by this particular serpent, and appropriate measures would be taken.

She found the creature curled in front of one of the larger trees, sunning herself languidly with the man-child some distance behind her, stuffed within the cage the tree's roots created, crying in both hunger and fear. She absently took note of the fact that most of his teeth were now missing.

"I had wondered as to when you would make your appearance…" the beast droned, large tongue flickering in her direction. Outright malice would have been preferred over the air of disinterest that she granted her. But it was a façade and nothing more, she was sure of it.

"You have displeased me." she stated, almost in shock at how disrespectfully she was being treated. In all of her life she did not believe that she had ever had to deal with a competitor who did not, at the very least, acknowledge her higher standing.

"And you have angered me," the serpent hissed, "Taking what was mine was something you had no right to do but, no matter. I shall kill you now."

She was having a hard time coping with the sheer audacity of the wretch before her, but left her discontent behind in the face of this new and unforeseen threat who lashed out at her so swiftly.

She dodged then and took a swipe at the predator, raking her thickened claws down the beast's back and revealing some small amounts of muscle through the tough scales. The challenger shrieked and thrashed, and managed to clamp down on her arm before she landed another blow to the side, forcing her attacker to release her and back away, hissing.

She paid little mind to the feel of venom creeping through her system. For she was immune to all kinds and this kind was no different. Bearing her sharpened fangs, and let out a loud and eerie screech and cried: "Leave now or I shall have your head! Show your hate to me once more and I shall tear off your skin"

The beast paused for a moment, the end of her tail flickering back and forth wildly in warning as she pondered before, finally, nodding once and slithering away with a trail of crimson behind her.

"I will leave then." she stated as she headed off towards the nearest border. "_I _will not return. But you will regret this day all the same!" was the last thing to be heard before she was gone.

She waited for the sounds of retreat to fade and then turned to the babe.

"Ma!"

Liberating him from the roots, she held him close and examined him even more closely, scenting him softly with her tongue and crooning as he latched onto one of her nipples and drank, no doubt starving.

"It's all right, my little one." she soothed, slowly making her way back to the den. "I will take better care of you next time, I swear it."

With a mew the man-child detached his lips and burbled up at her, his mouth stretching into a hesitant smile, revealing a pearly white fang protruding from his gum line…

…

A/N – Honestly, writing this chapter was as easy as pulling teeth out of a live honey-badger's mouth. Because 'the man-child' is so young, writing in his point of view was not doable, which forced me to use _her_ view. And she is not human, and incredibly difficult to write. And the more I wrote from her perspective, the more human she came across as.

Not only that but the fight scene… yeah. There'll be another one later on and I didn't want to spend all my creative juices writing a long and detailed battled scene for this chapter when it was not needed. Still, it does come across as quite sloppy. And to top it off, this chapter is not noticeably longer than the first one – contrary to what I promised.

So, basically, I'm not impressed by this chapter, at all. But I needed to give you all something while, at the same time, bypassing this transitional chapter, AKA hurdle. In the next chapter the infant will be older so I'll be able to write in his POV, so it'll be much easier to get through.

If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask. If you want to tell me how craptastic this chapter is – feel free!


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